Chapter 8
Spike reached
for his beer and took a long drink. He didn’t like the way his
thoughts were meandering – he had already determined that Anne
couldn’t be anything more than a friend. He had no idea what
to do or say; this was something he had never experienced-
living or dead. As a human, no woman had looked at him twice,
except for his mother.
As a vampire he’d had Dru; no other woman had ever compared to
her. Their love had been eternal, and mutually reciprocated –or
so he’d thought. It had been perfect, until they had come to
Sunnydale, and then it had all fallen to pieces. All because of
her. The familiar catch-cry caught him unawares and Spike shut
his eyes as he felt an excruciating pain shoot through his head.
He stifled an agonised groan.
He had loved her, but who was she? He couldn’t remember -why
couldn’t he remember? The pain of not remembering love was
killing him piece by terrible piece, starting with his brain.
Spike shifted in his seat and stared at Anne. He had to talk to
her, break it to her gently somehow or go with the earlier idea
he had of being a coward and getting Glinda to do it. He didn’t
want to lose her friendship - it was a fragile gift that he
cherished.
He wasn’t ready for love or anything, not after…
“Spike! Oh my god!” Dawn leapt to her feet and rushed over
to her surrogate big brother.
“Jeez, what the hell happened?” Anne stood and stared in
horror as blood poured from Spike’s nose, mouth and ears.
Spike pushed their hands away and grabbed a paper napkin; he
wadded it under his nose and stood shakily. “S’all right,
lemme go get cleaned up.” Spike staggered up the stairs and
disappeared into the bathroom.
Anne and Dawn stared at the specks of blood that Spike had left
behind him in horror.
“Has that happened before?” Anne whispered with fear
tainting her voice. She was hesitant to asking anything about
Spike after her aborted attempt to get Dawn to help in her
pursuit of him. Anne had been taken aback by the sheer
devastation in her adopted little sister’s eyes. So much so
that she had reached out to touch Dawn, only to be rebuffed.
Anne could still hear the venom in Dawn’s voice when she
hissed at her not to touch her or Spike. And was puzzled by Dawn’s
addendum that he wasn’t meant for her.
It had taken a good couple of weeks for the two of them to
return to the easy friendship that Anne cherished so much. She
was still puzzled by Dawn’s extreme reaction.
Anne, from the moment she discovered that Dawn was created by
Monks and not born into this world, had felt a real affinity
with her. Anne knew that she too was not truly real; she had
been created because of a wish by someone called Cordy, who-
from what Anne could glean- was not very well liked by the
others.
Both she and Dawn were pseudo sisters -- magical in origin-- and
Anne felt that this was something they had in common. So when
Dawn had freaked at her, Anne had been determined to rebuild
their friendship. Thank God she had managed to do so.
Despite the feeling that they shared more because of their
mystical beginnings, Anne had hesitated to ask again for Dawn’s
assistance in seducing Spike. She wanted to keep the tenuous
status quo they had regained.
Instead, Anne had surreptitiously started reading Dawn’s teen
magazines and also old copies of Comso, which she suspected had
belonged to Buffy. The inexperienced teen had devoured them
avidly; this was a world of glitter and glamour that she wasn’t
used to and was now starting to crave. As she stared wistfully
at the exotic models primped and preened to perfection, she had
started to wonder if she was ugly because of her scars…Maybe
Spike was revolted by them? Unbeknownst to her, the blond
vampire admired them and saw them as her badges of courage and
skill.
Gradually Anne began to alter her clothing, aided and abetted by
Dawn who leant her some and also pilfered a few outfits from
Buffy’s wardrobe. The two of them had also experimented with
make up and hairstyling, and slowly Anne’s utilitarian look
was changing. She still couldn’t comfortably walk in heels,
though.
Still, Spike hadn’t responded to her makeover and attempts at
flirting with him, and it hurt.
Dawn shook her head as guilt and worry filled her. ‘Oh my
god, is this cos of the spell? Or is there something wrong with
the chip…’ She began to mop at the blood Spike had lost
with her napkin, trying to get rid of it. “No, I don’t think
so.” Dawn’s voice pulled Anne from her maudlin reflections
and back to the immediate problem. Spike was hurt and it made
her ache inside in sympathy.
“He has been in pain quite a few times when we’ve been
talking. I never realised how bad it was, though.” Anne began
to stack the empty plates as she talked. She had noticed Spike
more since she had become interested in him. There were times
when Anne had thought he was going to pass out from pain, and
then just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone. She hadn’t
noticed that the painful episodes coincided more and more with
her fumbled attempts of attracting Spike’s attention.
She had no one to ask about Spike’s problem. Until recently,
none of the Scoobies had even shown an interest in talking to
her-- unless it was to discuss what monster of the week she had
killed. Going to the Bronze for the first time all those weeks
ago had terrified her, but it hadn’t been too bad- they hadn’t
ignored her completely for a change. She had hoped that Spike
would’ve noticed her killer outfit, but instead he had been
aloof and later rejected her.
Later, when Willow had talked to her and set her mind at ease
about being here to stay, her words had been music to Anne’s
ears. And then she had hugged her, which was amazing. No one
here had touched her so freely, not even Dawn. And after the way
Spike reacted when she had reached for his hand, Anne had been
determined to be more subtle in her attempts – and those had
failed miserably. She wondered if Spike was still in love with
Dru- he did mention her a lot.
His rejection had hurt her deeply. Again Anne wondered if it was
because she was ugly, she had never had any guy interested in
her and maybe it was because she was unattractive. It hurt to
think that this was why Spike avoided her advances, and
gradually the teen was becoming less and less confident.
“Do you think we should go and check on him?” Dawn
whispered. She wrung her hands anxiously. It was all her fault,
she just knew it!
Anne stared up the stairs, anxiety filling her. ‘Vampire’s
don’t get ill…what the hell is wrong with him…’
********
Anya shivered and tried to re-light her black candle, ignoring
Willow yelling at her to get ready. She knew that timing was
essential for the ritual; Willow freaking at her was not
helping! Midnight was the best time for any such ritual as this.
It was when the barriers were at their weakest between the
worlds of the dead and living.
She wasn’t too sure about raising Buffy. Xander said it felt
wrong and he was right on the mark. It was wrong- they
were meddling in forces that should be left well alone!
But Willow was the boss of the group- so here they were, waiting
to get eaten by a vampire while Willow crossed over to the ‘darkside’
and raised Buffy with the impurest of magics. She wondered if
the others even knew what the ritual entailed? She doubted it,
otherwise they wouldn’t be here.
Anya stared over at Tara’s serene face and wondered if Willow
had put a persuasion spell on her. The two wiccans had worked
together on the spell and Tara would never agree to the use of
Dark magicks. ‘Would Willow go that far in her search for
power and to prove to us that she is a strong witch?’
Anya shivered again and this time it was not from the biting
cold of the wind, but from fear. She stared at the urn and
wondered if anyone else was aware of how tricky raisings were.
The ex-demoness had been witness to enough raisings that she
knew if something went wrong, it would be squicky, and usually
resulted in exploding entrails. Anya looked at the others and
kept her council, knowing that they were suffering and she
wanted them to be happy. And if Buffy’s soul was in hell like
Willow said, then she was all aboard the ‘raise Buffy from the
dead’ train.
“Anya, light the damn thing now!” Willow yelled. She was
ready to go and the time was right.
“I got it! I got it!” Anya’s lighter finally lit and she
managed to coax a small flame from the wick of her blessed
candle.
“Start the circle… now!” Willow ordered.
“Osiris, Keeper of the gate, master of all fate, hear us,”
she dipped her finger into the urn and marked her forehead and
both cheeks with the blood. The scent of the blood didn’t
bother her, not after being coated in it earlier as it
fountained from the fawn’s slashed throat.
Xander glanced over at Willow and then looked at Tara, his face
filled with anxiety and nerves. He was worried about Willow. He
had no idea what the ritual entailed. Willow had kept them all
out of the loop on the details; this was his best friend playing
with the magics. He didn’t want to lose her as well as…
Xander looked at the coffin they had dug up- as well as Buffy.
“Before time, and after. Before knowing and nothing,” Willow
chanted, the excitement rising in her. This was going to be her
greatest triumph, saving Buffy!
With a steady hand she poured the blood onto the earth at the
foot of the coffin. “Accept our offering. Know our prayer,”
Willow recited with an unwavering voice. She had always been
good at memorising stuff and the spell was engraved on her mind.
Tara tried not to scream in fear; she was terrified that Willow
was going to be hurt doing this. But she had promised her lover
not to interfere; this was Willow’s one shot and she was
determined to succeed. Tara looked at the ground and bit her
lip, knowing that the testing of Willow’s resolve was coming
and it wasn’t going to be pretty. It was coming soon; the
Wiccan could smell the ether changing around them as Willow’s
chant pulled the power of the heavens and earth towards her and
the corpse in the coffin.
Willow jerked and her arms lifted- deep cuts appeared on them
and pain railed through her. She heard Xander’s voice in the
distance calling her name. Distantly she heard Tara warning him
off, saying it was a test, but she couldn’t speak. There was a
build up of power and it had ensnared her in its grip. It was
amazing!
“Osiris! Here lies the warrior of the people. Let her cross
over.” Willow chanted, her pain secondary to the magic that
was beginning to roil within her. She could feel something
crawling under her skin and it was weird, but she could live
with it if the spell worked. She moaned quietly when the pain
got too much and pushed past the high of the power in her.
“She needs help!” Xander called out worriedly. All he could
think of as he watched the round things under her skin was the
smelly guy in The Mummy- and that had not ended well for him
once the scarab had gotten to the guys brain.
“Xander, she's strong! She said not to stop, no matter what.
If we break the cycle now, it's over.” Tara’s voice
prevented him from reaching for Willow.
Xander was beyond scared and heading towards Freaksville when
Willow started retching.
“Osiris, let her cross over! Aah...” Willow lurched forward
as her throat was filled with something cold and slimey trying
to push it’s way out of her body. It hurt so badly, but there
was nothing she could do now; it was too far into the spell to
stop- even if she wanted too. Willow could vaguely hear Tara
calling to god for help, terror filling her usually soft voice.
Willow dug her fingers into the cool grass and felt the snake
slither free from her throat as its head appeared in her mouth.
It dropped to the grass.
‘Oh mann, I’m gonna be sick. Just regular puke for the
Xanman, no magic snakes!’ Xander stared as the snake
slithered away and wondered whether Willow would ever be able to
eat again- cos he was thinking not!
Anya glanced at the snake and shuddered. She was really glad she
wasn’t dating Willow because there was no way she would be
French kissing her after seeing that!
“It's a test. It's a test. Willow...” Tara watched as Willow
panted for breath. Her hair stood up on the back of her neck. It
was coming!
***********
Anne and Dawn finished washing up the dinner plates and put them
away. They both froze when they heard Spike’s boot-clad feet
thundering down the stairs. They exchanged a glance and waited
for him to appear in the kitchen.
“Right, my lovelies, best be off to fight for puppies and
whatnot.” Spike swung around the door. The only sign of what
had happened earlier was the faint bruising under his eyes and
the burst blood vessels that threaded across the whites of his
eyes. His hair was a mass of wet curls from when he had dunked
his head under the tap to get rid of the blood seeping out of
his ears.
“Spike!” Dawn flung her arms around her vampire and squeezed
him close. “Are you feeling okay?” She asked, her voice
muffled against his t-shirt.
Spike patted her on the back and then eased away from her
clutches. His head was pounding, but there was no way he’d
admit that to his Nibblet. “M’fine luv, Ol’Spike is a
tough bastard.”
“But Spike, you were bleeding!” Anne interjected. She was
slightly envious of the ease at which Dawn touched Spike.
Wishing she could hold him, too.
“Yeah, all better now, must’ve been the chip or something,”
Spike replied dispassionately, his cavalier attitude belying his
earlier ruminations. He had no idea what was wrong with him, but
was determined to carry on. Dawn needed him strong and the
others needed him for patrolling.
*******
Tara, Anya and Xander huddled together and watched the red glow
that enveloped Willow.
The silence of the gravesite was broken only by the eerie noises
of the magics as it surrounded Willow.
She was frozen in its grip, her arms rigidly outstretched as she
let the power flow in and out of her. Panting occasionally when
the surge was too much for her to bear.
The red haze was a column of light around her, pulling up from
the ground and also pouring down from the heavens. There were
flashes of white forms that circled Willow within the column of
reddish orange light and then…
Willow took a deep breath and managed to complete the spell. “Osiris,
release her!”
With those final words the power began to increase and jets of
light were raining down from the heavens through the reddish
haze that surrounded the newly initiated dark witch. Their
impact made the coffin rattle and shake.
For several long minutes they watched as Willow was caught up in
the surges. Tara and Anya clung to Xander, terrified beyond all
reason. Their eyes flickered from Willow to the coffin, watching
and waiting to see if they had succeeded.
“How much longer?” Anya hissed. “If we stay out here with
the lightshow going on we’re gonna attract some less than
friendly attention!”
“Shhh…look!” Xander whispered.
“At what?” Anya hissed.
“The coffin! Something’s happening!” Xander exclaimed
excitedly.
A red mist seeped into the edges and disappeared. As this
happened, the red column of light surrounding Willow vanished
and she fell sideways into a dead faint.
Tara pulled free and rushed to Willow’s side, gently lifted
her head onto her knees. Tara cradled her girl in her lap with
shaking hands. She bit her lip at the clammy feel to Willow’s
pale freckled skin. She smoothed her sweat soaked hair off her
face and rocked back and forth.
Anya and Xander sank to their knees and stared at the coffin,
waiting.
Inside the coffin, the red mist surrounded Buffy’s rotting
corpse had begun to rebuild her destroyed body.
Red muscle tissue began to grow and cover her bones. Veins began
to thread through the new tissues and filled with blood, causing
the pale muscles to pinken. Her toes and fingers involuntarily
twitched as nerves began to regenerate and electrical impulses
began to be sent to her brain.
There was a faint grinding noise as bones shattered by the
impact of her fall from Glory’s tower fused and healed.
Slowly, layers of flesh began to cover the exposed sinews and
Buffy’s body returned to her normal state. Her brittle hair
began to smooth and its lustrous shine reappeared.
The rictus-like grin on her face eased away as her full lips
reappeared and her eyes went from white to their normal hazel
colour. The mist dissipated once it’s reconstructive work was
done. It retreated into Buffy’s nose and mouth and began to
reinflate her lungs and get her still heart pumping.
*********
“Did it work?” Willow rasped as she woke up and pushed away
from Tara’s hands. She leaned over the open hole and gazed
into Buffy’s grave at the coffin.
“There was a red mist and then nothing,” Anya replied. She
looked at Tara and wondered if Willow had realised how much she
had hurt the sweet wiccan by pushing her away.
“Can you hear something?” Xander leaned forward. “It
sounded like a gasp, and it didn’t come from me-- cos all I
wanna do is scream like a girly man!”
Anya cocked her head and listened- she could hear a scratching
noise. “Oh!”
“What?” Tara crawled over and sat next to Willow. She tried
not to say anything when Willow straightened away from her
touch. She stared into the open grave, eager to witness her
magical triumph.
“From the coffin!” Xander yelled.
“It worked! Quick, open it!” Willow screamed excitedly.
Xander swung his rubbery legs over the open grave and jumped
down, angling his feet and managing to stand awkwardly in the
hole alongside the now shaking coffin. “Are we sure? What if
she’s all gross?”
“Xander!” Anya yelled in exasperation.
“Open it!” Tara gasped. “She’ll be terrified!”
Xander wiped his hands on his jeans and took a deep breath
before flinging the coffin lid open.
There was a pause as everyone stared down, wanting to see if the
raising had worked.
If Buffy was finally back with them.
********
“Nibblet, Tara said she’d be over later to keep you company
while we’re out on patrol.” Spike brushed a kiss on the top
of her head. He had managed to get them to stop clucking over
him. Spike was fed up with being in pain, he wanted to get out
there and kill something. Maybe his inflicting pain on a demon
or two would distract him from his own… Preferably vamp Willow
and her three stooges.
Dawn nodded. “I will. I swear I won’t go out.”
“Promise?” Anne raised her eyebrows in question. Dawn had
been caught out so many times that Spike had threatened to chain
her to the banisters if he ever found her wandering the streets
at night.
She wanted to talk to Tara about Spike, and also see if she
could weasel out of the shy wiccan whatever it was the others
were hiding from them. Tara was the only one that Dawn knew she
could ask, so she was going to wait for her. Besides, Janice was
out of town visiting her grandma.
“I swear I’ll wait here for Tara; I’ve got homework to do
as well.” Dawn wanted them gone so she could read over the
spell again and see if Spike’s bleeding all over the place was
connected to it like she suspected. The teen had no idea what to
do and deep down she realised she was gonna have to come clean
about what she had done. And that sucked.
“Good. If you want, I’ll bring you back a fang or somthin’?”
Spike offered with a smirk.
Dawn rolled her eyes, “Gross! But, okay…now go kill the
baddies!”
With that, Anne and Spike collected their stakes and axes and
headed out, locking the front door behind them.
********
Buffy took a deep breath and screamed at the top of her lungs.
One moment she was at peace, and then the next she was in hell.
Xander fell back against the wall of the grave and a shower of
dirt fell on him and Buffy.
She lurched up with another scream, her hands clawing at her
hair. Disoriented and terrified. It was dark and cold here- not
like the other place where she had been warm and safe.
“Buffy!” Willow, Anya and Tara yelled in unison.
“Buffster?” Xander reached down and pulled her up into his
arms.
Buffy clung to him and took deep, gasping breaths- her muscles
were weak and she couldn’t hold herself upright. She tried to
take comfort from his hold, but it wasn’t enough – it would
never be enough. She wanted to go back!
“Here, let us help.” Tara reached down and grabbed Buffy’s
arms; she pulled as Xander lifted Buffy up and out of her grave.
Tara and Buffy fell backwards onto the grass, their arms wrapped
around each other.
“It worked…it worked…she’s back! She’s safe!” Willow
chanted happily as she ran her hands over Buffy’s shaking
form.
Anya reached over and helped Xander out of the grave. “You
okay, honey?”
Xander hugged her close and stared at Buffy, who was now sitting
up and looking around with an expression of confusion.
“Buffy?” Willow reached over and smoothed her friend’s
dishevelled hair. “Can you hear me?”
Buffy’s mind was filled with confusion and terror. Her eyes
were finding it hard to focus and it was cold. She shivered and
snuggled closer to the warm form that was holding her, trying to
draw heat from her.
“We should get her home!” Tara exclaimed. She could feel
Buffy’s tremors and wanted to get her out of the cold.
Willow looked crestfallen at Buffy’s unresponsiveness. “Buffy,
can’t you say something?”
The small blonde cocked her head and opened her mouth, but a
croak was all she could manage.
“Okay, let’s get you indoors!” Xander scooped Buffy up and
nodded for the others to follow him. Buffy closed her eyes and
let the darkness pull her under and into blissful oblivion. She
was relieved when it consumed her as it meant she didn’t have
to say or do anything. It hurt to breathe, let alone speak.
“Is she okay?” Anya asked as she watched Buffy’s eyes
close.
“Yeah, I think she’s asleep,” Xander replied with a smile.
It had worked. They had Buffy back!
Willow and Tara stumbled along behind the other three, both
supporting the other.
“Dawn is going to be so surprised! And Spike!” Anya
exclaimed, oblivious to the worried looks the two wiccans
exchanged. Both of them where wondering how Spike would react
when facing his lost, and possibly forgotten, love.
*******
“So, you’ll take the Northside and I’ll go to the factory
area?” Spike waved goodbye as he loped off. He wanted to go to
the Industrial area, something in his gut was telling me that
was where his Aurelian family were camped out. He wanted to
check the area alone; if he took Anne there she might get hurt.
Anne watched him disappear into the darkness, a small pout on
her scarred lips. Spike was avoiding her because of the
handholding, she knew it.
“Sure…” With that she turned and headed off. Deep down she
knew it was the best thing to do – they had to find Vamp
Willow’s lair and destroy whomever else she had turned.
************
Anya trailed behind Xander, who was still carrying Buffy’s
limp form. She hadn’t stirred since the graveyard and he was
beginning to worry that she had come back wrong.
Behind them, Tara and Willow walked slowly. Tara was supporting
her exhausted lover who, despite her tiredness, was babbling
excitedly about how successful she had been and completely
unaware of the tightness of Tara’s mouth. She had realised as
the ritual had continued that Willow had changed a lot of it.
And it had all been too dark for her taste.
Tara stared at Willow’s animated face and wondered when her
Willowtree had changed so much-- and why she hadn’t noticed
it. She bit her lip hard, terrified that if she spoke it would
be to denounce Willow as a Sorceress, and she didn’t want to
voice those words. It would make them true once she uttered
them.
If she did, then there would be recriminations and arguments,
and the consequences of that confrontation, Tara knew, would be
devastating for their relationship and also for the others. Tara
stared at Xander’s back; she realised that in his eyes Willow
could do no wrong, and if she brought this up then the core
group would fracture.
Anya looked over her shoulder and caught Tara’s worried eyes
for a brief moment and in that second, Tara realised that Anya
knew as well. Shamed, Tara looked away and sighed. It was her
fault that Willow had turned to the dark magics; she should have
watched her more closely.
“W…where am I? Is this hell?” Buffy’s whispered
questions halted them in their tracks.
“Buffy!” They all cried in unison.
Buffy cringed back against Xander’s chest at their loud voices
filled with excitement.
“Buffster! You’re awake!” Xander grinned happily down at
her tired face. The others surrounded him, their hands
fluttering over Buffy’s limp form. She shied away from their
touch - it hurt her skin.
“Is this hell? Why am I here?” she rasped out, her vocal
cords unused to being used after so many months.
“No! Buffy, you’re home! I brought you back!” Willow
exclaimed excitedly. “I saved you from Hell; this is home!”
Buffy rolled her head and stared in shock at Willow. “Home?
Why…” She pushed at Xander’s chest and he set her down
gently. Steadying her when her knees trembled.
“Why, what?” Willow’s forehead crinkled in confusion.
“She’s not very grateful that we rescued her from untold
torments?” Anya huffed.
“Maybe we should get you home, Buffy. To Dawnie?” Tara
interjected before anyone yelled at Anya or questioned Buffy too
closely. She could see the distress in Buffy’s aura and hoped
it was as a result of the magics used and nothing else.
“Dawnie?” Buffy’s eyes lit up. “She’s okay?”
“Yeah Buffster, she is. But she missed you, and so did we.”
Xander patted her gingerly on the shoulder. Willow stared
angrily at Buffy, wondering why she wasn’t screaming with joy
that she was back.
“I want to see Dawn.” Buffy turned and began to walk slowly
towards home without a backward glance.